


She Rises and Falls Like Waves at Sea

by JosivChrisma



Series: Quills & Arrows [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Relationships, F/F, Female Friendship, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Femslash, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:21:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23766823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JosivChrisma/pseuds/JosivChrisma
Summary: The village of Haven erupted with celebrations as dusk neared, signifying the end of a successful day. People gathered, danced and sang words of praise into the cool evening air. The breach now subdued above the Frostback mountains, replaced by a scar that has tarnished the sky.
Relationships: Female Inquisitor & Josephine Montilyet, Female Inquisitor/Josephine Montilyet, Josephine Montilyet/Female Trevelyan
Series: Quills & Arrows [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/787815
Comments: 5
Kudos: 32





	She Rises and Falls Like Waves at Sea

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the mission ‘In Your Heart Shall Burn’ and told in Josephine’s point of view. Follows canon, but with my own twist on things. Please do enjoy!

The village of Haven erupted with celebrations as dusk neared, signifying the end of a successful day. People gathered, danced and sang words of praise into the cool evening air. The breach now subdued above the Frostback mountains, replaced by a scar that has tarnished the sky.

A fine mist began to settle, weaving its way through the buzzing village. Specks of snow brushed past Josephine’s rosy freckled cheeks as she opens her silver eyes to a changed world. One that makes her think of simpler times before being appointed ambassador of the inquisition. Sunlit piers, crisp salt air where sunsets breathed life into the Rialto Bay. Where cobbled alleyways smelled of sweet treats and spices, wafting from the nearby bazaar winding down after the day’s hustle. Candlelit taverns where lutes carried songs of life beside the ocean, tankards overflowing with mulled wine and aged antivan rum.  
Relishing the memory of a life out of reach, she grips the quill between her ink-stained fingers, and checks off the remaining tasks for the day’s itinerary, chuffed to find her schedule allows for a relaxing evening by the bonfire.

Past the crackling flames, she notices a small group of soldiers huddled around their young herald, chanting her name in unison. Only to find that Teahi shies away from the attention and slips away carrying a shallow goblet, her expression showing a tired sort of joy. She joins her by the fire and sighs loudly. ‘I swear, I’ll never get used to this,’ she admits, turning to the ambassador.

Josephine has to crane her neck up to greet her. ‘Regardless, you’re easing into the position nicely, my lady.’ In this light, her hazel eyes remind her of a field in spring. She notices her left fist is bound in cloth, its purpose most likely to hide the mark from herself more than others. ‘Everyone speaks of the immense strength you showed today, immobilising the breach would have been a strenuous task.’

‘A unified effort, but, yes, it was exhausting. I’m surprised my arm hasn’t dropped off already,’ Teahi said, clenching her left fist. ‘It’s the mark that does all the work. The strength to wield it though well...’— she ponders for a second— ‘that comes with knowing I carry the fate of Thedas on my shoulders.’

‘We will do what we can to ease such a burden—it’s the least we can do,’ she sympathised—such responsibility placed on the shoulders of someone whose life had merely begun. Youth marred by the anchor in her palm. An unbearable weight to bear and yet unfaltering.

‘One day, we’ll wake up from this nightmare, and it’ll be but a distant memory,’ the herald uttered optimistically.

‘I do hope so,’ Josephine hums. If only that were true, she appreciates her positivity nonetheless. Deep down, she knew life would never be the same, especially for the young woman next to her sipping on Fereldan brewed mead. One who slew foes with lightning-fast arrows, relentless and unforgiving. Not that she had witnessed such things, but stories travelled quickly around Haven, and one could only imagine.

‘How are you faring through all this? A little out of your comfort zone too?’ Teahi asked.

‘Undoubtedly. I can deal with dignitaries and politics with efficiency. Still, I’m afraid it’s the climate proving to be my true demise,’ Josephine admits, wrapping both arms around herself although she wore a thick weighted coat over her usual garb of silk and brocade. ‘Being thrust into the unknown makes me miss Antiva with a passion.’ A look of understanding passes between them. Home, unspoken but of course, she misses it too.

‘Paradise,’ Teahi hummed. ‘I travelled there once with a close friend. I can still remember the ships docking at the ports and how we returned to Ostwick sun-kissed with salt clinging to our skin. We promised one another, that if we ever grew tired of our double-walled city, we would jump the nearest trade ship and move to Antiva,’ the herald recalled, a hint of sadness in her voice, masking it with a grin that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

‘I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. It truly is a delight to the senses.’ Josephine nodded. Perhaps her close friend was a lover, awaiting her return. She changes the subject breezily to avoid the angst hidden there. ‘It’s funny, I’ve attended a number of your Aunt Lucille’s summer balls, and yet, I don’t recall ever seeing you there.’

A husky laugh escapes the young woman’s mouth, as she fidgets with the goblet in her hands. ‘That’s because I was awkward and possessed the social skills of a rock. I would rather dance with a demon, at least they won’t complain about my waltzing,’ Teahi answered, making the ambassador snicker quietly under her breath.

‘Oh but you give yourself little credit. With the proper guidance I’m sure you would have been the jewel of the ballroom,’ the ambassador said, tucking a stubborn tendril of loose hair behind her ear.

‘Such politeness,’ Teahi muttered, a wry smile hidden behind the goblet she raises to her lips, emptying it in one swift swish. ‘Besides, who would dear compete with you there, stealing the hearts of many.’

‘Who’s the polite one now, my lady?’ Josephine replies flatly, the apples of her cheeks slightly flushed. For a moment she had neglected the fact the world was turning to custard. A comfortable silence passes between them, then Teahi looks over at her, slyness in those hazel eyes.

‘I can just imagine you and Leliana kicking the hornets nest of courtly intrigue now and then. Oh—what I would do to watch that go down,’ Teahi said, fingers drumming against the goblet in her hands.

Shadows dance across Josephine’s features, her skin giving off a golden glow, matching the livery collar peeking behind the leather coat wrapped tight around her chest. Amusement fills her grey eyes. ‘You would not believe the stories if I told you,’ she admits, sparking the herald’s interest and leaving little to her imagination. ‘But I suppose one day you may observe, provided you’re disguised as a rock,’ she jests, smirking.

Teahi snorts, bemused. ‘Then it’s a deal, my lady.’

The moment is gently interrupted by a teenage stable hand, whose round eyes light up at the sight of the herald, his hands clutched tightly behind him. His tiny voice barely audible over the guffaws of villagers gathered nearby. Josephine watches as Teahi takes his hand and genuinely engages with him, even if it’s just a few words of gratitude. Before he takes his leave, the young man dips into a perfect bow, averting his child-like eyes briefly to acknowledge them.

‘I can see why the people think highly of you,’ the ambassador says softly. ‘You’ve instilled a sense of hope in all of us.’ In me, she wanted to add.

‘I’m just me. Just a person who happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. It could have been anyone.’ Teahi replies humbly.

Josephine greatly begs to differ. ‘I believe everything happens for a reason and the doubts we harbour unravel over time, revealing to us that which is hidden in plain sight,’ she states, almost poetic.

‘I’ve never looked at it that way. As much as I keep denying it, maybe this is where I’m meant to be after all.’

Evening arrives without the sickly green breach tethering itself to anything its lights touched. It no longer casts eerie shadows across the frozen lake or consumes the modest village of Haven and its inhabitants in dread.

Two ravens fly past in a blur towards Leliana’s tent. Neither of them think much of it as they constantly relayed messages between their master and her agents scattered across the continent.

Minutes later, the seeker appears requesting their presence, it’s urgent, but her angular face remains stoic as usual. Duty calls. It always does whether you are ready or not. Funnily enough, the chill creeps back in and bites at the antivan’s exposed skin once again as they walk to the spymaster’s tent in silence.

The crows bring news of an army marching towards Haven and immediately the herald’s demeanour changes. ‘Fuck—at this pace; we’ll never find peace!’ She curses, raising her voice slightly. Somewhere behind her, Josephine whinces. ‘I suppose this is it then. Sound the warning and rally the troops.’ She takes a deep breath and exhales. ‘If they want a fight, we’ll give them one.’

Everything moves in blurs of surrealism, and the atmosphere intensifies when the village bell tolls. Josephine regroups with the inquisition’s inner circle along with a squad of soldiers gathered at the front gates. Not long after the herald emerges wearing her hunters’ armour, bow and full quill strapped securely to her back and a pair of dual blades sheathed at her hips.

She looks different, somehow. Her face is one of determination as she centres herself amongst everyone and speaks clearly, slowly pacing. ‘Inquisition, we all know that in this line of work, danger is inevitable. We’re going in blind, and we may lack the numbers to retaliate, but we have the resources,’ she says, her voice calm and direct. Something stirs within her, slowly brewing. The calm before the storm. ‘We must remain steadfast and strong, stay together and protect the people at all costs.’ Josephine focuses on every word spilling from her mouth and the fact that she looks devastating like this, readying her army for battle.

‘I certainly didn’t come all this way to die tonight, no, none of us have. Let the sky serve as a reminder of ou strength. The Inquisition was reformed because the odds were stacked against us. Let us defy those odds once more and crush these fucking bastards!’ Teahi rumbles.

How she conducted herself took Josephine by surprise, it sent a shiver down her spine. A stark contrast to the herald she conversed with only moments ago. Velvet words spoken softly by the fire, now she had become one with the flames. She was intriguing.

Was this how it felt to go into battle with Teahi at the helm? Chests heaving with the anticipation of the fight? Or was it pure adrenaline coursing through their veins? Whatever it was, she held their unwavering attention like their lives depended on it.

‘Stand with me and fight!’ Her voice thunders, and the earth trembles beneath them. Fists raised high while rallying war cries fill the air with hope. ‘For the inquisition!’

Everyone disperses themselves while the ambassador clings to sanity. Then a familiar, warming face sweeps into view, one filled with the comforts of security and hope. ‘We’ll pull through this, one way or another.’ Teahi’s voice is calm, too calm, as she squeezes the ridge of her shoulder with a gentle hand of assurance.

Josephine treasures her warming touch and manages to find her voice. ‘I have complete faith in you,’ she responds, clinging to an arm flowing with strength. ‘As do the rest of us.’ 

Teahi beams down at her, bright eyes framed by dark-curtained eyelashes. ‘I’ll see you on the other side, Josephine.’ Briefly, her gaze drops to Josephine’s mouth, then their eyes meet, united in seconds that feel like hours. A shared moment, before she dashes off to join her comrades, rudely taking the warmth with her once again.

The ambassador hurries to assist in evacuating the village. The voice of instinct yells at her to keep moving, and she obliges, running as fast as she can towards chaos. Before her, children cling to their mothers, their cheeks shiny with tears. She does her best to calm the distressed by escorting them to safety. Soldiers ready themselves with swords and spears, their armours clanking as they sprint past her.

In the distance, the clash of battle begins between the inquisition and their foe. Flaming torches are streaming down the valley, showing the unknown army’s strength in numbers. It’s difficult not to feel intimated. Through the panic, she watches as a flaming projectile flings from the village’s trebuchet and it collides with the mountainside, sending an avalanche rushing towards the approaching army below.

That’s when things take a turn for the worst and the most horrid screech echoes throughout the valley. A quilted clouded sky darkens, obscured by a dragon circling wide above them, its wingspan dwarfing the village of Haven. Disorientated by the dragon’s deafening roar, Josephine throws herself against the wall of a nearby cabin, as the beast swoops dangerously low and engulfs the village in crimson flames. All around her, the earth is on fire. People are screaming for help while her entire body freezes in debilitating fear.

This is what shock must feel like, frozen in time while things around her move in slow motion. Her knees buckle beneath her, and she finds herself on the ground covered in snow and dirt. Teahi and her companions rush through her peripheral vision; there are rebel mages spilling over Haven’s walls. The seeker with her long sword and shield grunts as she forces the enemies back with hefty force, her sharp jaw clenched tight. Iron Bull swings his mighty battle-axe, and it collides with another mage, its faceted torso shattering to pieces. A suave mage she’s never seen before handles his sceptre with finesse, conjuring purple orbs of light that sunder a cluster of corrupted soldiers all at once. Her breath hitches when the dragon swings pivots in the air and descends towards them.

Teahi positions herself at a distance, aiming her bow and arrow, picking the rebel mages off one by one. Her arrows are shredding the air at deadly speeds. There is blood, there is carnage, there are things that shouldn’t even exist, and there she stands barely batting an eyelid. Her mouth pulled back in a deadly sneer as she nocks two thick arrows and points them at the sky. She releases them a split second before the dragon stretches its jaws open, piercing a weak spot under the beast’s tattered wings. It’s body jolts on impact, and it roars in anger, disrupting its course as it sprays more flames around them.

It takes Josephine a moment to realise that the herald is shielding her with her own body. Then eyes of fields in spring meet hers. ‘Josephine,’ she breathes her name. ‘Josephine, can you hear me, are you hurt? She asks worryingly, physically searching for any injuries. The ambassador manages to respond with a slow shake of her head, her vision a little hazy. ‘We need to hurry to the chantry, can you stand for me?’

She takes Teahi’s arms aa her feet find solid ground, but her muscles ache, and her head hurts from inhaling too much smoke. She staggers before Teahi scoops her up in her arms. ‘I’ve got you,’ the herald assures her. She sets off in the direction of the chantry, calling for Varric to provide cover.

‘I’m sorry,’ Josephine mutters hoarsely to her rescuer whose eyebrows furrow in return. ‘I tried to help the villagers but I...I couldn’t move.’ Her voice catches in her dry throat and tears of frustration start streaming down her cheeks.

‘No, my lady. You did all you could,’ the herald uttered between deep breaths. ‘I will never ask anything more of you.’

‘I’m afraid,’ Josephine whispers into the herald’s chest. The world was caving in around them as she clung to something familiar, that smooth, husky voice rouses her once more.

‘I’m afraid too,’ Teahi admits. If there is fear in her heart, she hides it well. ‘Just keep your eyes on me, and I promise I’ll keep you safe.’

Josephine sees glimpses of a youthful face under the battered mask she wears. For a moment in time, she forgets about everything else, the dragon, the army of corrupt mages and the village engulfed in flames. For once she feels safe, clinging to the knightess with all her might. ‘Maybe you could show me around Antiva once all this is over?’ Teahi asks her out of the blue, it catches the ambassador off guard, but it warms a part of her once frozen in fear.

‘It would be my pleasure, my lady,’ she replies truthfully—something to distract the mind and ignore the fact they were running through a battlefield. The thought of home was like a ray of sunshine, a silver lining to the dark cloud continually looming over their heads. The herald smiles down at her and keeps running as fast as her legs can carry them.

They reach the sanctuary in no time, and Josephine feels her body being lowered gently onto a wooden stool. Her bun is loose, cheeks discoloured with soot, coat scorched in some places and her livery collar feels more cumbersome than usual. Teahi unclasps the silver canteen hanging from her belt and hands it to her. ‘Thank you for coming to my rescue. Who knows where I’d be if it wasn’t for your bravery,’ Josephine tells her before she reaches for her hand. A friendly gesture.

‘I would never let anything happen to you,’ the herald replies, catching her breath. ‘To anyone for that matter. It’s my duty to protect the ones I care for.’

Josephine searches for the right thing to say, but ends up throwing her arms around her in an embrace that’s welcomed. ‘Teahi, please return in one piece, preferably with a heartbeat,’ she utters into the woman’s ear who gently pulls away to look at her.

‘If it means I’ll be returning to you then, I’m sure that can be arranged,’ Teahi says sarcastically.

‘You are truly impossible,’ Josephine replies, swatting playfully at the woman’s bicep. ‘Albeit, impossibly too selfless for your own good.’

In her heart, an unexpected desire burns, a warm, familiar feeling rising within when Teahi glances back at her, before the chantry is sealed shut. Perhaps there’s something there that barely existed before, and it’s taken the fall of Haven to finally realise her reverence for their leader runs deeper than she thought. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
